Initiation
by ArikaPhantomess
Summary: Remus must carry out his mission for Dumbledore. Unfortunately, this entails some things that might be better left... unsaid. YAOI, DUB-CON


For Rosivan

Initiation

A/N- This was another work of mine done for a LiveJournal community. As with the one before, I implore you, do not read on if you are squicky to the following: YAOI, DUB-CON. Thank you, please don't be flaming dorks.

xXx

Remus blamed Dumbledore. If not for the designs of the old coot, he would not be bound here in this fine mess. Bloody werewolves... he hated to be considered one of their brutal and savage kind and the particular pack he had been sent to join was one of the worst. Every member was ostracized from the community for heinous acts- not just the usual prejudice. Worst of all, their alpha was known throughout the wizarding world for his ruthlessness and taste for young human flesh... Fenrir Greyback.

But Dumbledore needed this connection. He needed Remus to remind the wolves that there were allies in the wizarding world. Still, Remus did not want to be the one standing here in the cold, foggy evening, breathing harsh sea air and waiting on tenterhooks. His skin prickled with anticipation and fear. This was not good... the pack could smell fear. A sudden sharp sound wide to his left caught his attention. He scented the air a moment before concluding that it was the wind snapping a branch.

He was wrong.

Five dark figures emerged from the fog, surrounding him. They scented the air and conferred with each other through hand gestures, growls, whines and eye expressions. At length, one approached him.

"You are trespassing. What do you want here, rogue?"

Werewolves, much like wolves, were uncomfortable around other werewolves without a pack. Normally, one did not have a pack because of a lost dominance battle or punishment in the form of banishment. Remus showed signs of neither. He smelt too much of magic and his clothes were too well kept. Perhaps they thought he had recently been kicked out of wizarding society. All the better- this was cause for them to trust him.

"I wish to join you," he replied, lowering his shoulders and bowing his head in a submissive fashion. At this, the others inched forward, smelling him. Remus tensed.

Without warning, a strip of cloth was thrown over his eyes and bound. Cold steel grated against his wrists. Five pairs of hands lifted him and bore him away down a long path of twists and turns through trees and water. This pack took no chances. They did everything they could to make sure he didn't know where they were. He was put down on hard, packed ground.

Remus pulled his wrists experimentally- he had been handcuffed. The cuffs were snug, too snug to simply pop his thumb out of joint and pull through. The metal of the cuffs was just sharp enough to make him think twice about attempting to snap the things apart. It really didn't do one any good to break free if one was hemorrhaging from an important vein.

Dear lord how he wished he were anywhere but here! There was a very thin barrier in himself that was preventing him from turning tail and fleeing for all he was worth. One deterrent was the knowledge that the pack would track him down and either kill him or maim him in such a way as to prevent him from disclosing their whereabouts. Another reason was that bound and lost as he was, he would wander around until he died of starvation or falling off a cliff. He had no choice to wait and obey.

Suddenly, a new scent completely filled his mind. It was overpowering, dominating and vaguely unwashed. One could not help but focus entirely on the being that this scent belonged to. Submissive growls filled the air and Remus pricked his ears to listen to the heavy footsteps approaching. Instinctively, he crumpled his stature to seem smaller and less significant- more submissive. He bristled at his own spinelessness. Is this what he had sunk to, groveling at even a mere scent? Had he no dignity as a man?

A rustling sound behind him interrupted him and resulted in the removal of his blindfold. Remus squinted at first, but found that he did not need to protect his eyes from light. It was already night and the moon was half waned, but the clearing in which he had been deposited was completely hung over with ancient leafy trees. A giant hulking figure loomed before him. This was undoubtedly the alpha, Fenrir. Remus swallowed and choked back the instinct to whimper with fear. Did Fenrir remember that he had bitten Remus so long ago? They say that a werewolf never forgets the scent of his master or of his devotees.

It was so. Fenrir stared at Remus with frightening delight and relish. There was no doubt in Remus' mind that Fenrir remembered him and was taking full pleasure in Remus' desire to join the pack. Remus did not move so much as a millimeter. This was now part of the initiation. From here on out, he was being judged.

Fenrir circled him slowly. Remus took shallow breaths to prevent taking in any more of his wolfish odor. The man never showered it seemed and he was rank enough to be nauseating. Three times, Fenrir wandered around, each time a new sparkle of glee lit his eyes. The fourth time, he disappeared behind Remus and did not reappear for a considerable length of time, letting the night stretch on.

Remus shouted aloud at a sharp bite of pain. Fenrir had sunk his fangs deep into the smaller man's shoulder. He felt dizzy and sick. Stars flashed in the black of his eyelids, forming half-remembered images of similar pain under entirely different circumstances. How much more of this could he take? His knees threatened to dump him onto the ground. With resolution, he locked them. If he fell, he would be judged unfit and the consequences would be dire. The scent of sweat was overwhelming.

Behind him, Fenrir was now making a great deal of noise. Though the temptation was strong, Remus stayed as he was. He would be the epitome of obedience. He was about to take a deep breath to steady himself when a disturbingly familiar warmth touched his back. The warmth was wide and slightly damp, enough so that when it moved, a trail of hot liquid was left. There was little doubt left in Remus' mind as what was going to happen to him next. Surprisingly, he did not care that the pack was watching from their various hiding places. He could not see them and lord knows they weren't stupid enough to interrupt this ritual with even the slightest hint of noise. Firm pressure on his back bent him forward.

Dread filled him and once again, he felt a hot rush of shame and anger. Once again he was bowing before a man he hadn't the least bit of respect for- only hatred and resentment. Once again, he blamed Dumbledore entirely for the disgrace of his face shoved in the dirt.

His skull was on fire. Sharp, piercing agony! He had not even been prepared with lubrication or anything... simple invasion. Then, not giving him time to adjust to the agonizing stretching, Fenrir began to thrust.

Dark drops of blood fell from Remus' mouth as he bit himself hard enough to quell the desire to either whimper and cry with each stroke or forcibly remove the pack leader with tooth and nail.

Remus' mind scrabbled for that place where nothing can harm you. The niche inside everyone where one can hide and feel nothing except what they will. How often he had been there when his wolfishness was undesirable, when life went wrong. The serenity of enveloping grey... this place was sacred. Yet he couldn't get there. He would begin to see the soft edges of his sanctuary only to be ripped brutally away by the feeling of raking nails or hot breath on his clammy, sweaty skin. He was about to give over to the pain, but that would be giving up control- control with he desperately needed to retain.

With increasingly savage abandon, Fenrir's pace increased. Growls rolled from his throat and he held Remus by the hips to pierce him more deeply. Remus gave himself up to the pain, let it ring within hi and carry him over waves of agony where it would. He was still given up long after Fenrir had howled aloud and stopped thrusting.

Fenrir stood and chuckled darkly. He brushed himself off and gave Remus one last good sniff. He sauntered away baring his fangs unconcernedly as the pack held its breath for the final verdict. The hulking figure paused his stride long enough for one last act.

"Welcome to the pack."


End file.
